Lost Soul
by an-artist-at-work
Summary: Jeff died 55 years ago. He's lost, stuck in between. He just can't seem to find his way out. But the problem is…he could never get out. What happens when he comes across a human named Nick? Friendship will blossom. But how about love?
1. Prologue

Welp. I decided to write another niff fic. Sue me. This was also posted on Tumblr. You can find it in the "niff" tag. This idea just happened. Okay, well, it didn't just happen. It was inspired by an assignment I had to do for Literature class. We were supposed to write a story about the "Macbeth legend." I killed Jeff in that story, but I wanted to put it one step further. So here it is...the prologue to _Lost Soul._

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_**May 1, 1957 Westerville, Ohio**_

The Newton Revival Theatre burned down at approximately three o' clock in the morning on April 29, 1957, for reasons unknown. The burning of the building happened two days ago, but investigators are still searching the scene.

No one knows for sure what - or probably, who - started the fire, but all the investigators know is that someone was in the building when it was burned down. It is possible that this person started the fire - accident or no accident.

This person suffered from third-degree burns due to being a close proximity to the fire. The investigators believe that the person died within a thirty-minute to sixty-minute time period after the first inhalation of smoke. It is still a mystery on why this person was in the building in the first place.

Our investigators have given us a vague description of the fire victim. Reported, the victim was male, blond, and had a height of about six feet. His clothes, which HQ has made out to be a blue plaid shirt and a pair of blue jeans, and the skin under were badly charred due to the fire.

With further investigation, they have found the source of the fire under all of the ash and rubble. Investigators had found an oil lamp, precariously lying on the floor. The area around the lamp looked the most destroyed. But the destruction of the whole building was still terrible. Charred curtains, blackened seats, soot-covered floors. No one believes that this theatre will live again.

**_May 8, 1957_**

A week after the burning of the Newton Revival Theatre, our investigators are still finding the identity of the fire's victim. No signs of any identification could be found on the person.

Besides the fire, there has also been a reported missing person in this area. The missing person has been reported to be gone for at least nine days from today, May 8, 1957. The missing person's family has described him as male, blond, six feet and one inch, brown/hazel-eyed, and was last seen wearing a blue plaid shirt and blue jeans. The parents of the missing boy have said that their son just turned eighteen two weeks prior the incident.

The missing person's description matches exactly to the one of the Newton Revival Theatre fire victim. HQ finds this detail to be quite bizarre.

_**May 10, 1957**_

Putting two and two together, the answer was indeed quite obvious. We do not know how we could have overlooked this now very important detail.

Investigators have now found the identity of the victim of the Newton Revival Theatre fire.

His name: Jeffrey Sterling, also known as Jeff by his friends and family.

The Sterling family will be holding a service on May 12. Friends of Jeff and his family are welcome.

Jeff Sterling will be dearly missed.

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Don't know when I'll update this. Hopefully, soon. But first, tell me what you think. Give me some feedback and/or ideas to help me with this thing.


	2. Chapter 1

**So as you know, this is the first chapter of my multi-chapter fic _Lost Soul. _You all probably hate me now because I haven't updated this darn thing for two weeks, but I have a legitimate explanation. And here it is: I had my laptop taken away two weeks ago, and I just got it last night. I typed up the first chapter today, and I think it turned out well. So enjoy :)**

**And if you were wondering what the hell was going on in the prologue, I will clear that up for you. Sorry for making that a tad bit confusing. The prologue is a compilation of notes taken by a reporter who works for a crime unit (like in CSI or NCIS). These notes were published in Westerville's newspaper on the date that was on top of each entry (The first entry being on May 1, 1957 and the last entry being on May 10, 1957). So there you go. I'm really sorry if you didn't get it. In retrospect, I didn't think that what I wrote was actually clear. You could have easily assumed they were from something else.**

**This is my fourth time uploading this. Every time I uploaded it, I always found a mistake or that something was missing. Hopefully, this will be my last time.**

**I hate myself for not checking what I just typed. I think that's my problem...I'll try and fix that later. But now, on with the story!**

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**_2012 - Fifty-five years__ later..._**

Harsh shoves.

Withering Stares.

Hurtful slurs.

It all seems familiar to him. But still, it hurts and cuts deep. He thought it would all end as soon as he hit high school. Soon? Maybe. Now? Probably not.

He can't even walk down the halls without someone pushing him into a row of lockers. His short but masculine physique slightly denting it. The cold, hard metal causing bruises on his back and shoulders.

But he just can't do anything about it. He can't just tell _anyone._ His teachers surely wouldn't listen; they wouldn't even care. It already seems like they don't care at all. They don't even realize that one of their students is being harassed by practically the entire student body. They dismiss it like it happens every day with a wave of a hand or a shake of his or her head. They believe that what their students are doing is just something teenagers do and that it will just pass. But you know what? It's never going to "just pass." It's just going to keep building and building, making this already big problem even bigger.

His other classmates…Now that's a laugh. He knows that they wouldn't do anything either. They're just as scared as he is. They can't even risk getting hurt for helping the gay kid.

Yes, Nicholas Duval was gay. Oh, run for your lives!

But it's not like one touch would suddenly turn them gay. It most certainly does not work that way. And besides, Nick wasn't even planning on coming out. He was fine as he was, hiding who he truly was from the people who most hated him. But Nick was practically forced out of the closet by those stupid homophobe jocks who just so happened to find out.

He liked musicals. _So what?_

He wasn't a big fan of sports. _Big whoop._

He idolized female celebrities. _Who cares?_

But none of these things were accepted as "normal" around here.

They thought it was weird when he was the only guy out of all of the students in North Westerville High that never tried out for any sports.

They thought it was weird when he was always the first one in and the last one out when changing in the locker rooms.

They thought it was weird when he started humming Broadway tunes as he walked down the halls to his next class.

They thought everything Nick did was weird.

But those things didn't exactly scream that he was gay either. All of the students, and even the teachers, just assumed that Nick was.

Nick didn't come to this school as a gay teenager. He came to this school as a _closeted _gay teenager. He never even thought about coming out to anyone. But the assumptions made Nick think twice about everything. He didn't know if he should muster up his courage and just take the risk. But he knows what that could lead to…

But everything isn't always sunshine and rainbows. There's always the darkness that just creeps up and ruins everything. And that's exactly what happened to Nick.

* * *

Nick had this journal. And this journal was practically his best friend. He brought it everywhere with him. He carried his whole life on that thing, exaggeration or not. But everything was in there – dreams, stories, fears, thoughts, drawings, journal entries, and most importantly, his big secret.

But if this journal fell into the wrong hands, Nick wouldn't know what to do. He'll most probably freak out and start hyperventilating or something, so he can never let that happen. Ever.

He could never let anyone know that he was gay. He'll be looked at differently, and Nick could not take that.

He was scared. Everybody already thought that something was wrong with him, and they were already assuming he was gay, but Nick can't let them know that it was actually true.

But where was it? Where was the damn journal?

Rummaging through his backpack, Nick frantically searched for the paperback journal that he could categorize as a prized possession. His _only_ prized possession.

He couldn't just _lose _it. Nick's not that stupid. Or was he? Because he just lost his fucking journal. His journal. The journal with his deepest, darkest secret. Where the hell would he have put it?

The last place he went to where he knew he had he journal was the library. Nick ran. He had to get there before anything bad happened.

By the time he got to the doors of the school's library, Nick couldn't believe his eyes. Yes, his journal was there…but it was in the hands of North Westerville High's quarterback, Brad Nolan.

Oh, shit.

That smirk on Brad's face told Nick everything. He knew. And if the school's quarterback knew, then everyone will know. The most popular guy at school can spread news like wildfire.

Nick just lost it. His life was _ruined_.

Walking through the front doors of the North Westerville High the next day, Nick could have never been more embarrassed his entire life. The looks everyone gave him proved what he thought all along.

Everyone found out.

Stupid Brad just had to be a douche and tell _everyone_. And it was only, what? A day since he read Nick's journal? Nick just couldn't believe it. He was outed. He was not safe anymore.

* * *

Ever since Nick was outed, it seemed like everyone in the school, including the teachers, would avoid him like the plague. He was not normal. Being gay, to them, had never been normal.

The news had spread quickly, covering the entire town in less than a week. Sure, his family was accepting, but that was only two people out of all the others who reside in Westerville, Ohio. Everyone else around him thought he was a disgrace – classmates, teachers, his neighbors, store employees, every single one of them. To them (which was practically the entire town of Westerville), Nick wasn't like them. Ever since Nick was labeled as the "town fag," he could never be like them.

At school, Nick was always picked last for everything. Nobody talked to him, but to Nick, that was completely fine. He didn't like to talk to anyone. Actually, he didn't like to talk in general.

He sat alone in the corner near the dumpster at lunch. No one wanted to be his partner for anything. He was ignored by everyone – students and teachers, alike. The only time he would actually get "noticed" was when he would get harassed by the school jocks, making him be seen by the whole student body and become the laughing stock of the entire school.

But for some reason, harassment aside, he liked it that way. He liked the solitude, the independence, the peace. He could get away and hide away from it all. They wouldn't even notice; they wouldn't even care. Nick Duval had never been important.

But that peacefulness is always snatched away before he could fully grasp it and call it his own. It's always gone as fast as it has come. Nothing that's good could ever be his.

But for once, can't he finally have it? Everything gets taken away from him – his secret, the peace, his own dignity – so why can't he? Why can't he have it?

Oh, right…

Because Nick Duval was never important…

To his classmates.

To his teachers.

To everyone.

…And Nick believes them.

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**Reviews are always welcome :) **

**They bring happiness to the world (to me).**

**The next chapter will probably be uploaded next week, but I'm not making any promises. But once summer it here and school has ended, I'll make sure that I upload this thing and make you guys all happy.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hi. I'm a terrible person. I updated this soooo late. I don't even know how many people read this, but I still feel terrible for not updating like a normal updater should... So here's chapter 2.**

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A cool breeze rustles through the pages of his book, but Nick could care less. So enraptured by the book in his hands, he wants to soak in every single line. To feel that sense of adventure the black print had to offer.

He knows that he'll never have the chance to actually _feel_ the adventure. The risk. The _danger._ He was never the one to put his life on the line. So the only way that he will ever do that was through books and his vivid imagination.

Back home, Nick has a whole stack of books on his bedside table, ranging from mystery and suspense to adventure. The books in that stack never failed to impress him. Piled up high next to his bed, the stack had never gone less than four books.

Nick was currently sitting under the big lone oak tree at the other side of the park. The perfect place to isolate oneself from all the screaming and chitter-chatter from the park goers at this time of day. But in his mind he was in the world of the supernatural.

Vampires. Werewolves. Witches and wizards. Ghosts.

Eyes flying through the pages at an amazing speed.

Nick Duval always preferred reading over anything else really. He was never the one to strike up conversations. Never the one to go out and party, like the rest of the students at North Westerville High. He was – to put it lightly – anti-social. An introvert. But Nick liked it that way. He kept to himself, and that's how he liked it.

This lifestyle was alright with Nick, but there was always those times when he felt lonely. He had no friends, and Nick could never strike up the courage to make any. That was his problem. He couldn't make any friends. He didn't know how.

And Nick learned to live with it. It was just him and his books.

* * *

Too engrossed into the newest book he had just acquired, Nick did not notice a pale figure moving towards him, nor did his notice the look of pure curiosity upon its face.

* * *

Walking – or in Jeff's case, floating – wasn't an ideal activity for a ghost, like Jeff. It was boring, and it sucked. He didn't have anything else to do, considering that, in fact, he was a ghost. A ghost that still can't find his way through the twenty-first century. He was born in the late 1930's, and asking a random bystander for directions or help wouldn't be good for him or the person he encountered. He's done it before, and it didn't end well. He probably scarred that poor human for life. He shouldn't have told him that he was a ghost.

This encounter happened in 1978. A year when he finally had the courage to ask someone for help. And since then, Jeff decided to keep himself on the down low. He really didn't want a repeat of what happened.

And now, it's the year 2012, and Jeff's still clueless as ever. Thirty-four without any encounter with a human can do something to a…supernatural being. But it would be better that way. Right? At least he's not scaring anyone, so that's good.

Yeah. That's _really _good.

But all this loneliness was getting to him. Jeff never really liked being lonely, even when he was alive. It was getting too hard to bear.

All of his friends were dead or really old. He would know. He's attended his friends' funerals, not to be seen of course. And if he did meet up with one of friends right now, they would have died just by looking at Jeff. And the guilt that he killed someone would have taken over.

So Jeff was as lonely as ever.

No other ghost or supernatural being was around to keep him company. And Jeff could never wrap his mind around it. People died all the time, whether from sickness, accidents, or old age.

So where were all these dead people? Why hasn't Jeff seen one of their ghosts?

Oh, right.

Because they've all moved on to Heaven, the afterlife, or whatever.

And Jeff couldn't.

That's what sucks about Jeff. He's unable to move on because apparently he's one of those "special" cases.

He saw the light, and he knew where he was going to go as he walked towards it. But he was told that he was meant to stay on Earth for some bizarre reason unknown. A reason that even the person – or angel, doesn't matter – who told him didn't know either.

So he was brought back to the place where he died, watching the ruins of the old theater be demolished with every passing year.

He has been given one task and one task only before he came back down on Earth. A task he must accomplish in order to move on.

And that was to help someone find their path.

But Jeff didn't understand. How could a ghost help someone? What did this task mean? What was he supposed to do?

Millions of questions were asked. But the one question remained unanswered – well, to him, it was.

_Who was he supposed to help?_

They never told him. All they said to him was: "You'll know."

And with those two words, his was on solid ground, wearing the same clothes as he had died in. But they didn't look tattered or burnt. They looked as good as new, as they did before the incident.

_You'll know._

Like that's going to help.

And still, after fifty-five years, Jeff still hasn't known who this person was. He didn't know it would take this long. Jeff has been wandering around the town of Westerville, Ohio, hoping to find the person he was supposed to help.

And all of sudden, there it was. This _weird _feeling in his chest, a nagging in his mind. It was like it was trying to tell him something. But he didn't know what.

He stopped to take a look of his surroundings. He was in the quiet – isolated – side of Westerville's only park. And there was a boy, around his age, sitting under the lone oak tree with a book in his hands.

And like an electric shock, Jeff finally realized. He knew what these feelings were telling him.

That boy over there.

He's the one.

* * *

Feeling a cold presence upon him, Nick slipped his hand into the book, saving his page, and looked up. What he saw took him completely off guard. Right before him was a boy smiling down at him. Nick didn't think this was normal. At all. Nobody in this town talked to him.

The boy couldn't have been more than seventeen or eighteen years old. He appeared young, but Nick didn't want to make any assumptions.

Nick discreetly did a onceover, raking his eyes on the newcomer, slowly taking in the boy's appearance.

His bright blonde hair, his pale skin that almost looked transparent, and his dark, dull brown eyes, which, despite the color, were shining with excitement. The smile plastered on this boy's face did not look fake at all, to Nick it seemed. So it was rather unnerving as the blonde boy continued staring down at Nick, who still had his back against the oak tree, book forgotten on his lap.

Nick quickly took in the mystery boy's simple clothing. Just a blue plaid shirt and some blue jeans. Nothing too flashy and bizarre about that.

Feeling a slight tension in his neck from looking up too long, Nick ducked his head down, completely uncomfortable by the other boy's stare. He decided to break the silence, the awkwardness and confusion too much to bear.

"Um…Hi. Who are you?" Looking back up, his eyes met those of the mystery boy's, still dull and brown as ever and so very uncomfortable. It was like he was staring straight into Nick's soul or something. It was just plain…creepy.

The boy's smile brightened – if that was even possible – and replied in a tone that perfectly matched the smile on his face.

"Hi! I'm Jeff!"

Nick's uncomfortable-level had risen an incredible amount as he had never seen a person so _chipper, _like this Jeff-guy.

It seemed like the boy in front of him had never talked to a person before or for like a really long time. The look on Jeff's face made Nick think that he had accomplished something by just talking to him. But talking to Nick would never be called an _accomplishment_. To other people, talking to Nick would have been a _punishment._

So if this blonde guy, standing directly in front him, appeared to actually _like _Nick, then Jeff was new to this town. Completely new. Like just moved here kind of new.

But little did Nick know Jeff was indeed new, but just not the same kind of new he was thinking of. New to the century was more like it. And it _was _Jeff's first encounter with a human in a long time.

"Hi…I'm Nick," he said in an even tone, "Nice to meet you."

Nick then turned back all of his attention back to the book in his lap, hoping Jeff would just leave. He was completely comfortable in the peace and quiet he established before the overly-enthusiastic blonde came along. But unfortunately, luck was not on his side, and it never was. It was like some force on the face of this earth just wanted Nick to be miserable and make everything not go his way.

And right then and there, Jeff didn't go and leave the other boy alone, leaving Nick in his internal misery.

"Watcha doin' there?" Jeff asked as he plopped himself down next to Nick.

Nick really didn't want to talk to him. But seeing as Jeff didn't seem like he was leaving anytime soon, Nick just answered blatantly.

"Reading."

"Well, I can see that," Jeff rolled his eyes, gesturing to the book in Nick's hands.

"Well, you asked me what I was doing," Nick retorted, acting a bit defensive. And here he thought Jeff was actually being nice to him. He just came here to make fun of him, that's for sure.

Jeff sensed the defensiveness in Nick's tone, but didn't call him out for it, not wanting to aggravate the boy any further.

"I didn't mean it like that. I just thought you would tell me what you were reading," Jeff spoke softly. "That's all."

Nick's cheek tinted pink, as he blushed in embarrassment. He just made a complete fool out of himself in front a boy that was clearly not from here as far as Nick could tell. His assumptions were wrong.

"Oh…"

Jeff gestured to the book in Nick's hands. "So are you going to tell me what you're reading about…?"

Nick quickly recovered, covering up his embarrassment with a blunt response. "Oh, you know…stuff."

"Wow…stuff. That must be pretty interesting," Jeff drawled out sarcastically. He crossed his arms behind his head, leaning back against the tree trunk.

Nick chuckled at that, surprised that this boy was actually amusing and didn't appear that he wanted to hurt in any way.

"Yeah. It's pretty amazing."

The two boys laughed at that. As the laughter died out, the two fell into a comfortable silence. Something that Nick never thought would happen around Jeff. Another breeze blew by, and Nick went back to his book as Jeff stared out into the open. It was…nice.

It was still a mystery, though, as to why the pale blonde was here. Nick really didn't expect for another person to be here. No one actually went to this side of the park at this time of day.

But something still nagged at the back of his mind.

_Why did Jeff have to notice me?_

It was an unusual occurrence to have somebody notice you and not say hurtful or mean things at you. It was a change. A good change.

Glancing to his right, he noticed Jeff's eyes flitter across the back of the book jacket, reading the summary of Nick's book. Nick thought he heard him mutter something about ghosts under his breath, but he wasn't sure.

Nick moved the book slightly, taking Jeff out of his trance, or whatever it was.

"Huh?" Jeff blinked, looking back up at Nick.

"You kinda zoned out there."

Jeff shook his fringe out of his eyes as an attempt to clear his head, "Oh, yeah. I do that a lot." But he had a question that he was dying (no pun intended) to say right when the word 'ghosts' caught his eye.

"You're into the supernatural?"

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**Reviews are welcome. **

**Don't kill me if the next update will be done next year.**


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